I thought house calls were a thing of the past but apparently I was wrong.

Much to my surprise I was received by not one, but two doctors yesterday morning.  The shortest of the two took my temperature and declared it to be “80-99 bucks”.  After this there was a flurry of activity in which I was given a special humming bird-bleeding heart stamp on each hand, a flu shot in the leg, and was tucked into a rather small bed for a two or three-day hospital stay.  I was served soda from a blue Lego and animal crackers, which looked like ripped up pieced of brown and red construction paper, on an old Sesame Street plate.

I was feeling rather pampered by all this attention so I inquired to the older of the two doctors why, exactly, I needed all this special medical care.

He replied in his sweet little five-year old voice “Well Momma, you have had a couple February Seizures.  That’s all.” 

Oh my.  My heart dropped.

He proceeded to tell me that I would need an X-ray and an MRI.“But don’t worry, it won’t hurt a bit and it looks just like a big doughnut.”

Yesterday was also the second time in a week that we were making the long drive up to Children’s Hospital for more of his yearly follow-up appointments.  I guess all the talk of medical equipment and febrile (not February) seizures did not go unnoticed.  All his test results came back fine because he is a rock star and we are more than a bit lucky.

But I still have to say that I wish my five-year old had never heard of an MRI machine.